Never Friends
by Snapjinx
Summary: Barely a week after the Five dosed themselves with the Source blood, Nikola and John realize what their respective transformations mean. The difference is that John embraces it, while Nikola refuses to accept it. No slash.


**Rated T for angst, gore, some language, and just general darkness. If anyone has complaints, let me know and I can always change it to M. I'm not too sure on the rating system on here, yet. Also, nice comments are welcome as well! ^_^**

**Basically this is a look at the characters of John and Nikola (because they both kick ass) and also a chance to play with Niko's vampirism, since it's not a main focal point in the show—which I actually kind of like. He's a genius; the fact that he's a vampire is just kind of extra.**

**Anyway, do not own the show or either character, even when they are in the emotional states I stick them in. **

**Enjoy!**

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**_Never Friends_**

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When John Druitt returned to the Magnus home, nearly high with his latest masterpiece, he was surprised to find a beggar curled up on the front steps. Frowning and fully prepared to give the man a solid kick to shoo him off, John mounted the steps and drew back his foot.

A low growl was the only warning he received before a pale hand shot out and three-inch claws sank deep into his calf muscle. John yelped and promptly stomped on the arm with his other foot. As soon as he was free of the crazed bum, he teleported a safe distance away. From there, he watched as the beggar slowly uncurled from the top step to reveal the vampiric features of Nikola Tesla.

"Tesla?" John gasped out, still gripping his wounded leg and wincing. "What's the _hell's _wrong with you?"

For a moment, the black orbs stared back at him blankly, like the flat eyes of a wild animal. Then, as if just remembering it could talk, the creature that looked like Tesla began forming words.

"So…hungry…" His voice was hoarse and guttural, practically inhuman.

John used his pocket handkerchief to tie off the stiletto wounds in his leg, but remained far enough away from the vampire that he could teleport again if Nikola charged him with vampire speed.

"Then eat something," John muttered dryly. "My god, man, for a genius you have no common sense."

"Tried…food…" Nikola rasped. "Can't…"

All at once he grimaced in intense pain and doubled over. John felt no need or desire to step forward to assist. The two had never gotten along. From their very first meeting at Oxford, it was like they were born to be mortal enemies. Then, when Helen and John were engaged, Nikola became even colder toward him. John might not have been a scientist, but he wasn't stupid. He knew what made the usually-controlled genius twitch.

But now, there was nothing of that careful repression in Nikola's face and body language. Now there was a pathetic creature, barely able to stand, much less form its features into something human.

"Helen thought that might happen," John reminded him. "You're practically a vampire now. Vampires don't eat food. They drink—"

"_Blood_!" Nikola gasped out, still in intense pain. Grabbing the railing with white knuckles, he dragged himself to an upright position, biting out his next words in order to get them in a coherent order. "Yes. I know."

John shrugged one shoulder. "So, drink some blood."

Nikola stared at him in horror and, for a moment, gray-blue flickered in his eyes, but then the ink-black returned—though it looked out of place on such a terrified expression.

"How can you say it so casually!" the Serbian genius spluttered. "It's not like popping over to the pub for a whiskey, Druitt!"

John merely shrugged again. "You do what you need to in order to survive. That's the main rule of the wild and, like it or not, you are no longer a gentleman." John smiled his Ripper smile. "You're one of the children of darkness. Like me."

Nikola managed a chuckle, strained though it was, as he shook his head. "I'll _never _be like you," he rasped. "I can overcome this, given time. I'm very good at denying my desi—"

Another pang struck him then and he nearly collapsed. And that was when John got the idea.

Since they'd first met, Tesla had been nothing but an arrogant, vain bastard. He thought himself so far above everyone else just because he was so damn clever. Well, now there was a crack in the armor—a moment of weakness.

And John would be damned if he was going to pass up such an opportunity.

"Nikola," he began, speaking in the soothing tones he used on the prostitutes before he gutted them. It was the voice of a hunter to its cornered prey. "I think this hunger goes beyond a simple desire. You _need_ this."

"I'll find an alternative," Nikola groaned, nearly on his knees, still gripping the railing. "I just need time to experiment and…urrghh…" His face tightened in a grimace again.

John began walking over slowly, easily feigning a sympathetic face. "Did Helen throw you out here?"

Nikola looked up and met his eyes. "No," he said after a moment. "Watson and Griffin did."

John shook his head pityingly. "But Helen didn't protest, did she?"

"No…she didn't…" the vampire whispered. Nikola looked like his pain was now coming from two sources.

"It's because she knows there's no getting around this problem," John reasoned, easing ever closer. "You are bound to this hunger, just as I am bound to my madness." Smiling, the Ripper was now close enough to rest a hand on Nikola's quivering shoulder. "We are brothers, you and I, Nikola. I can help you."

Nikola was silent, which for him was the equivalent of breaking down in tears of surrender. Smiling, John gripped the vampire's shoulder tight.

"I'll take care of you."

Then he jumped. It was the first time he'd teleported with another person and was pleased to see that it worked. In the alley where they landed, Nikola staggered slightly—both from his ongoing pain and from the shock of leaping between two locations. John stood tall, used to it by now.

"What…" was about the only thing the vampire could get out.

His black eyes peered around the narrow street and because of his night vision, he quickly spotted the tiny body lying in the alcove of a doorway. All at once, the essence of heady, metallic blood overpowered his newly-heightened sense of smell. Gasping from the sheer ecstasy of simple scent, Nikola actually collapsed. If the wall hadn't been there, he would have fallen to the wet cobblestones in a quivering heap.

John watched this euphoric reaction with interest. "She's not been dead more than a minute," he said, quietly but eagerly. "The blood hasn't congealed yet. It's not much of a first meal, but you're welcome to it. Call it a gift of goodwill from me to you."

"No," Nikola rasped. His eyes were wide and inky as he shook his head. "I couldn't…"

He was leaning hard against the wall. John noted with interest that the long, black claws were deeply imbedded in the wood, as if he were physically attaching himself to something stationary so that his body didn't march off and get what it wanted.

"She's already dead," John reasoned.

Nikola's head shook furiously. "No. No, she's alive. I can hear her heartbeat…I can feel it…vibrating the stone beneath my feet…pounding in my head…" He groaned and ducked his head into his arm.

John immediately hurried over to his last victim and found that, sure enough, he had forgotten to slice her throat. Her abdominal muscles were ripped to shreds—his usual signature—but her barely-covered chest was still rising and falling faintly.

"Well, I'll be damned," John whispered. "My first mistake!"

He glanced over at Nikola, thrilled in the moment. The vampire looked even paler—if that were possible—and his black eyes were fixated on the growing pool of blood around the barely-conscious girl.

"Well, come on, then," John urged, beckoning for Nikola to come closer. "This is good news. Now, it'll be nice and fresh."

Nikola swallowed hard and shook his head. With remarkable control, he forced his fangs to retreat and his oily-black irises to shrink back to clear gray. His claws withdrew from the wall, back to normal human fingernails, and he started to turn away, staggering like a drunk in his weakness.

Scowling, John quickly teleported back to the vampire, grabbed his arm firmly, and jumped again, returning to the whore's side. Nikola didn't even start to struggle, because the smell of all that blood up close literally made him fall to his knees.

"No!" the vampire gasped, breathlessly.

But that word was the only one he could get out before his eyes, mouth, and claws involuntarily switched to that stage halfway between full vamp and human. He growled low and, as if his body were moving without his approval, Nikola slowly bent forward, splaying his hands on either side of the dying whore, supporting himself above her. His fingers curled on the blood-slicked cobblestones and, disjointedly, he lifted one of his hands up to his face. Shaking, he brought it to his lips and flicked his tongue out.

He nearly buckled at the taste.

John watched, enraptured, as Nikola eagerly and pathetically licked every last streak of blood from his palm. The newborn vampire whimpered like a puppy as his tongue swept over his skin, making soft, yearning noises in his throat that might have been orgasmic in a different situation and in different company. Then, without hesitation or qualm, Nikola lowered his head to the blood pool on the ground. John was mystified. He wished he could capture the moment on record, but he'd have to settle for his own memories. Who would ever again see the great Nikola Tesla on his hands and knees, lapping at the ground like a dog?

"I'm just musing, here," John spoke up. "But wouldn't that taste better warm?"

Nikola bolted upright, blood smeared around his mouth. John watched in fascination as the vampire's face restructured with a snap, the eyes angling and becoming even more inhuman. Claws slid out like a mutant cat's and the grin of fangs seemed to widen. Nikola didn't even glance at John, though. Once again, he crouched over the girl, heaving with massive breaths. But this time there was nothing human left. He eyed her shivering body with all the feral lust of a starving wolf.

"She's going to die," John urged in a whisper. "In fact, she's basically already dead. She'll bleed to death in moments. You'd be doing her a favor, speeding it up."

The girl's eyes flickered open, then—the barest spark of life present there. She saw Nikola's blood-smeared, sharp face and looked like she wanted to panic, but didn't have the strength to move. The light in her eyes gave the vampire pause, but once he'd gotten a taste, he couldn't stop. And John's logic appealed to his strong rational side.

Without hesitation, he lowered his head to her unmarked, ivory neck and bit deeply, like a child taking a bite of apple. The gush of blood was immediate and strong. It filled his mouth and he nearly coughed at the incredible heat and richness of the liquid. Not willing to let a single drop of newfound nectar hit the cobblestones and grow cold, Nikola immediately began sucking at the wound like a nursing child. That is, a nursing child dying of starvation. He couldn't help the soft moans of pleasure that escaped as he drank. And at the moment, he quite frankly didn't give a damn who was watching or who heard. If Helen Magnus herself was standing there, he would not have even glanced up.

John got a chill as Tesla twisted his head sharply in order to achieve a better angle for biting down on the other side of the girl's neck. As he resumed feeding, the slurping sounds that came from the hunched over vampire made John smile. Yes, he'd hated Tesla. Still did, actually. But the man showed promise for the ways of the darkness, certainly.

Nikola threw his head back briefly in order to take a gasping breath. Blood was smeared across his chin and all down his neck, marring his usually immaculate wardrobe. John smiled. Yes, there was a dark animal within both of them that the rest of the Five hadn't been blessed with by the Source blood. This vicious inner animal was possibly the only thing that John and Nikola had in common.

They would never be friends, John knew. Because the determined Nikola _would _eventually learn how to control his bloodlust in a way Druitt knew he could never duplicate. But for one moment, for _once _in their lives, Nikola was John's equal, on his hands and knees in the blood and mud and shadows.

And it felt damn good.

~fin~


End file.
